The moment Anchali opened the door, a woman shoved a gun in her face. Anchali didn’t seem surprised, but Gift sucked in a shocked breath, bolting to his feet. “Mom!”
The woman at the door flinched at Gift’s cry, eyes jerking to him, then back to Anchali, eyes wide.
After a moment, she shoved past Anchali, rushing at Gift. Park stood, putting himself between them, pointing his weapon at the skinny, unkempt woman.
“Stop. Stop. Stop,” Anchali said in Thai. “Both of you. Please. Please, just listen.”
“I don’t understand,” the woman said in Thai, still brandishing the gun in one shaky hand but with far less conviction.
The pieces fell into place as Park studied the woman. She was older, gaunt, and her clothes, though clean, hung off her. Her face showed signs of a hard life, but she had rich brown hair, delicate features, soft brown eyes, and rounded cheeks.
Gift clearly took after his mother. “Petal,” Park muttered.
She blanched like she’d seen a ghost, eyes wild as she looked from Anchali to Park and back again before asking Park, “Who are you?” She pointed the gun at Anchali. “Who is he?”
Anchali gave her a gentle smile. “That’s Park. Gift’s…boyfriend…” she explained, tone implying she could hardly believe she had to utter those words out loud.
Gift blinked rapidly, looking between the two women. “What’s happening here?” He looked at his mother—at Anchali. “Who is she?” he said again. “What is this?”
Park could see his gears turning. It was hard enough coming to terms with learning he was adopted and that his biological mother was a dead traitor selling government secrets, but having said woman resurrected and standing in the same room just moments later was a much harder hill to climb. Even Park was having a hard time fathoming this.
“Who are you?” she asked again, gesturing to Park with the gun. Clearly, she wasn’t buying Anchali’s boyfriend story.
“Park,” he said calmly.
“Park? What’s happening?” Gift asked in English.
“Thai,” she snapped at Gift, then her face softened, her voice gentle as she repeated, “Speak Thai.”
Gift gave a jerky nod, repeating his question in Thai before adding a hasty, “I’m sorry.”
She gave him a watery smile. “Come. Come.”
Anchali gave Gift a sharp look of warning. It saiddon’t move. She looked pained as she spoke with the other woman. “Sukhon, please listen. I brought you here for a—”
She swung the gun at Anchali. “Shut up. You stole my baby. You stole him from me while I was left to rot.”
“What?” Gift asked again, white as a sheet, looking at his mother in horror.
“Please, just listen,” Anchali tried again, but the woman wasn’t having it.
She shook her head frantically, pacing back and forth. “I’m taking my baby and I’m leaving. We’re leaving.” To Gift, she said, “Come.” Her eyes were pleading.
What had Anchali been thinking bringing this woman face to face with Gift? She was clearly unstable.
“Mae,” Gift gasped, not looking at Anchali but at Sukhon.
Park put an arm out, barring him from moving towards the woman. Gift didn’t go to the woman, but he was now close enough to Park’s back to feel him trembling.
Sukhon’s eyes teared up and she nodded.
Gift smiled at her. “I-I remember you. You were in the van when those men tried to…kill me?”
“No. No.” She shook her head again. “Not kill. Just bring you home. I would never hurt you.”
“I know,” Gift said. “I know that now.”
Sukhon nodded, calmer now than she had been a moment ago. She held out her hand. “Ahrak.” She gestured for him to come once more.
